


Battlefield

by MarvelMerlin



Series: DBH SHAU [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shadowhunters, Canon-typical language, Daniel & Simon (Detroit: Become Human) are Twins, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Half-Siblings, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Elijah Kamski Being an Asshole, Inspired by Shadowhunters (TV), M/M, RK900 is Nines, Werewolf Markus, basically a court case, but with sadness too, fae North, its magnus and alec, more major mentions/appearances of Shadowhunters-canon Characters, shadowhunter upgraded RK900, they're my boys, they/them North, this is a sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-24 08:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30069642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelMerlin/pseuds/MarvelMerlin
Summary: Gavin Reed and Nines managed to successfully stop the Downworlder uprising led by Parker James, saving their home city and their families from the danger of all-out war. Now, they have to deal with the consequences.Nines must face the ghosts of his past and find it in him to let go and pursue the man who's actions were directly responsible for Parker's failed uprising.Gavin must uncover the truth, the truth of his mother's death, the truth of his brother's murderous rampage, but most of all, he must accept the truth that is his own self.And they'll need all the help they can get.||This is the sequel to Soldier Keep On Marching On||(Chapter titles from Tomorrow We Fight by SVRCINA & Tommee Profitt)
Relationships: CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60/Daniel, Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Tina Chen (Detroit: Become Human)/Valerie Morales-Chen, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: DBH SHAU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109948
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Everything Could Stay the Same

Alicante had barely changed in two centuries. Nines’ eyes had lit up the moment they’d stepped out of the portal, scanning the city a few minutes walk from where it had let them out. The demon towers sparkled in the sun, the mountains surrounding Idris almost as blue as the sky. 

Nines was  _ home _ . 

The Clave representative they’d spoken with had offered them access to the permanent portal within the Gard, but in order to get to the Ashgrove home within the city, they’d’ve had to pass by the cemetery of the disgraced. Nines couldn’t handle that. Not yet, at least.

So they’d opted to portal in from Ada’s to outside the city wards and walk through the city. 

“C’mon.” Nines pulled Gavin along behind him, running and weaving through the familiar streets.

Nines turned without reading street names, stepped over bricks in the streets that had been cracked the last time he was here, but now were completely broken. He grabbed sides of buildings to make sharper turns, and charted their path so they wouldn’t have to deal with the extra security around the demon towers. 

Unlike Bath, Alicante hadn’t changed. This was still  _ his _ Alicante. 

Nines pulled Gavin up the street to the Ashgrove home, with its glittering red marble bricks, black veins running through each one, still standing out from the other buildings. Gavin raised an eyebrow at Nines, who just shrugged.

“We  _ may _ have stolen a chunk out of the side. Was Eli’s idea, she insisted on bringing home with us wherever we went.”

“Defacing your childhood home as a fuck-you to your family?”

Nines grinned. “Exactly.” He knocked on the door.

“Just a moment!” A voice called and the happy scream of a young child was heard on the other side of the door.

The door opened and a man around Connor’s height but slimmer grinned brightly at the two men in his doorway.

“Well, look what the Portal dragged in!” He reached his arms out, pulling Nines close. “Couldn’t’ve visited in the past decade? Just letters? No emails or anything?”

Nines dropped Gavin’s hand and wrapped his arms around his great-nephew’s slim frame, spinning him around. “You don’t have an email, C.” He placed his hands on his shoulders, looking him up and down. “Cain, this is Gavin Reed. Reed, this is Cain Ashgrove.” 

He stepped back and took Gavin’s hand again, pulling him forward. Gavin extended his free hand to Cain. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ashgrove.”

A semi-familiar voice echoed from inside the house. “GAVIN REED, YOU FUCKER!” The sounds of clattering and crashing objects reached the door and a face nearly identical to Simon’s pushed through the doorway.

Gavin’s face lit up, pulling the new arrival into a hug. “Daniel, what the  _ fuck _ are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” Daniel slapped Gavin’s shoulder.

Cain elbowed the man in the side, and he looked at him sheepishly. “Ah, sorry, C.”

He turned back to Nines. “This is my fiancé, Daniel Dewwell-”

“Simon’s twin,” Gavin interrupted, a hand still on his shoulder. “Both of them came to Detroit for their travel year.”

Daniel grinned, his hair much wilder than Simon’s ever was. “Simon stayed behind to moon over a boy and I came to Idris to rescue our little sister from the grasps of complete and utter boredom.”

“Markus?” Nines asked Gavin, who nodded, and Nines rolled his eyes.

Daniel pointed. “Him. He still mooning over him?”

Gavin nodded, grinning widely. “Yep, they’ve finally admitted their mutual pining and have moved on to making out outside a would-be-revolutionary’s former base of operations.”

Cain cleared his throat, giving his fiancé a disapproving look. Daniel cleared his throat. “Right, you have an appointment with the Inquisitor.”

Cain shook his head fondly. “Let's get you settled before you head in.”

The group walked into the house, and Nines only hesitated for a moment. The interior of the house was different, yet the same. However, the coldness of the house, the distant feeling of looming death, was gone. 

The house had been dark when Nines had left for the last time. Curtains drawn tight to hide him from view, doors shut in his face. His family had already turned their backs on him before his trial. They believed every little thing said about him, no matter how much was true or how much was false. 

_ “Blood is thicker than water, my arse _ . _ ”  _ Elizabeth’s voice echoed in his head as he looked at the main staircase, where the four of them had gathered more often than not.

_ “Eli, not now.” _ Sarah’s softer voice, the ghost of her comforting hand on Richard’s shoulder.  _ “Richard, are you  _ **_sure_ ** _ they won’t testify as character witnesses?” _

He heard his response as though he were sitting with them again.  _ “I don’t know if you’d noticed, Sarah, but if I so much as  _ **_think_ ** _ about moving towards them the door slams shut. Literally.” _

_ “What a lot of  _ **_backwards_ ** _ , horrible,  _ **_back-stabbing_ ** _ -” _

_ “Eli, they’re still-” _

_ “What? Your family?  _ **_We’re_ ** _ your family, Richard. Sarah and I. And Sp-” _

_ “Eli. Please don’t.” _ He’d interrupted her before she could say his name. He hadn’t stopped hurting, even though his parabatai mark had been faded for nearly a year. 

_ “Richard, Rich.” _ Sarah’s hands were petting his hair, trying to soothe him as best she could.  _ “Why couldn’t you let us share the blame? You know they wouldn’t have come down as hard on us.” _

_ “Your reputations would be ruined, you’d be facing the same thing I am.” _

_ “But we’d be facing it  _ **_together_ ** _ , dear. Nihil potest nocere nobis, cum nos invicem.” _

Nines knelt and tapped one of the wooden slats in the staircase, familiarly. And as it had then, it loosened now. 

“Did you break my house?” Cain asked, arms crossed.

Nines shook his head and gently removed the piece of wood. It was covered in dust, but it was there. Nines blew the dust off of the box they’d hidden, the four of them, before they’d graduated and left Idris.

“Nihil potest nocere nobis, cum nos invicem,” Gavin read from the lid of the box.

Cain raised his eyebrow. “Nothing can hurt us when we have each other? Not a traditionally Ashgrove sentiment.”

“That's because this was made by a Lowbough, a Nightglade, and a Wildlaw. And me. So it’s only a quarter Ashgrove. To be truthful, I don’t know what’s in here. Elizabeth and Sarah added to it after my de-runing, just before they died.” Nines ran his fingers over the lid of the adamas box, carefully crafted. Sarah’s gentle fingers lent incredible detail to the lid of the box. Hidden among the curlicues decorating the border of the lid were interwoven initials. S.L, E.N, S.W, R.A. 

_“That’s dangerous, what if someone finds it?”_ _His_ voice echoed in Nines' head, and Nines nearly dropped the box.

_ “There are a thousand hiding places in my parents’ home, you know that.” _ Richard’s teasing voice, bumping shoulders with his parabatai, who smiled shyly, his arm looped with Richard’s.

_ “ _ **_If_ ** _ someone finds it, they won’t be able to open it. Two of our steles are needed.” _ Sarah had explained.

_ “Nihil potest nocere nobis, cum nos invicem,” _ Elizabeth had said.  _ “And we’re  _ **_always_ ** _ together, and we always will be.” _

Gavin’s hand was on Nines’ shoulder, and a gentle squeeze brought Nines out of reminiscing for a moment. He realized he’d begun crying. A tear had run down his cheek and landed on the lid of the box.

_ “Why are you crying, anima mea?” _

_ “Father’s begun to arrange a marriage for me. Some poor girl, who doesn’t know what she’s getting, thinks she’s getting some perfect future-Inquisitor for a husband. Not-” _

_ “You are perfect to me, Richard. You are wonderfully perfect, your heart on your sleeve for the whole world to see. Whoever you marry will be a lucky girl. Because you will treat her as if she is a goddess, to make up for what you see as a fault.” _

_ “I’ve never seen you as a fault, anima mea.” _ He’d been quick to reassure his parabatai.

_ “I know, my dear. I know. But we knew we couldn’t be only the other’s forever. The end was always in sight.” _

_ “What if it didn’t have to end?” _ Sarah had suggested. She was smart, and quiet. Deadly combination, Nines recalled fondly. 

It had been her who had proposed the marriages, and it made sense. No one would think twice of two parabatai couples, both married, retiring to the countryside of Idris as recluses. The four of them were all they’d ever needed. Even in the Academy, they'd relied on each other.

“Nines?” Gavin’s voice was soft, his hands on either side of Nines’ face.

“Too many ghosts,” Nines whispered, and Gavin looked over his shoulder at Cain, who quickly shooed his fiancé out of the room.

“We have half an hour, Nines. What do you need?”

Nines pressed the box into Gavin’s hands. “Keep it safe for me. I can’t open it, not now. Maybe not ever... No, I'll open it. Later... Just not now.”

Gavin slid the box into the bag at his side, alongside Richard Ashgrove’s file. Two things belonging to a person he no longer was. Gavin’s hand grabbed both of Nines', and Nines focused on that. Focused on Gavin.

Idris was home, Alicante was home. This  _ house _ was home. But it wasn’t anymore. He didn’t have a home anymore. 

Except for Gavin and Connor and their friends. 

Nines pressed closer to Gavin, burying his face in Gavin’s curls. Tracing his fingers along the tips of the fae ears, feeling every point of contact with Gavin. 

Gavin was his home. His gentle scent, moss and warmth, grounded Nines further. His fingers ghosting along his spine as he rubbed gentle circles in his back. Nines took a deep breath, inhaling as much of Gavin’s scent as he could, before pulling back and grasping Gavin’s hand.

“We should get going.”

Gavin nodded, squeezing Nines’ hand. “Lead the way.”


	2. I Was Named

They walked, hand in hand, down the streets of Alicante, bustling with Shadowhunters of all ages, all covered in runes. Nines caught sight of a few Downworlders; a warlock helping entertain a group of children, a werewolf laughing with some Shadowhunters at a cafe table, a Seelie knight, instructing a small group of Shadowhunter children in a park. Downworlders in Alicante, in the Shadowhunter home country. 

Nines couldn’t help but smile. This was what they’d wanted, what  _ he’d _ wanted. What he’d worked centuries for, from the shadows, no one knowing his name. Even when asked to consult on the Accords and various Treaties, he never shared his name. He wasn’t a signatory to any Accords. 

Detroit’s Agreement was different. By then everyone had forgotten Richard Ashgrove, and he was just Nines. He’d signed under Connor’s name, and Kara had signed under him and had looped her signature’s K through their C and N. 

The office of the Inquisitor was within a large building in the centre of the city. The Council chambers attached, as did the Accords Hall. Nines and Gavin approached the doors and Nines suddenly stopped.

Fear gripped his heart. No what ifs this time, just ghosts of words, memories he’d suppressed. His parents and brother serving as witnesses  _ against _ him despite saying they would just stay away. Sarah and Elizabeth sneaking in and standing at the side of the balcony of onlookers. It was packed. Their faces when they found him guilty. Their faces when his punishment was announced. 

All he could look at, the moment he’d spotted them, was their faces. They had come, even though he’d begged them not to. But there they were, tucked away in a corner. And every word, every testimony, every verdict and punishment was worth it, because they were safe. And they would always be safe.

Now, 216 years later, he was walking in, marks restored by powers greater than those of the Inquisitor or the Clave. And he was walking in, holding the hand of the second person he’d loved in the last century. And miraculously, this man loved him back, and was standing as his lone witness, because he thought if there were  _ any _ issue, that he’d be able to refute it. 

Oh, how he  _ wished _ Elizabeth and Sarah could meet him. The same fire in Elizabeth’s eyes was in Gavin’s. Fiercely protective, to a fault, of those he cared for. They would’ve gotten on wonderfully. Nines shook his head, smiling.

_ “This is a second chance. One much deserved, Richard. Sarah and I got ours, you get yours too.” _

Elizabeth and Sarah’s near deaths had reached him in Detroit, and Ada had pulled what strings she could to get him to the gardens surrounding the Citadel. Sarah and Elizabeth hadn’t known what he was, he hadn’t told them in his letters. Better they think of him aging like a mundane, a law clerk in America. Sarah and Elizabeth had run into his arms and he’d held them tight.

Their white robes gleamed in the light of the full moon, and Nines had held them close, murmuring apologies, and thanks to the Angel that he couldn’t finish. They had held him, and Sarah’s fingers had danced through his hair as he laid his head in her lap, Elizabeth’s arms around his torso as her head leaned on his shoulder.

_ “We’ve visited your brother every year, just to drive it home how much of an asshole he is.” _

_ “Language, Eli.” _

_ “It’s true!” _ She’d grinned at Richard and put on her tragic face.  _ “I know it was likely for the best, but oh how I miss Richard. He was a good man, and he would’ve treated me so well. Now I’ll never have children or grandchildren to spoil. I’ll never see them get their marks, or be blessed with a parabatai as I have been.” _ She’d dabbed a fake tear and Nines had laughed, pulling her closer.

He’d stood outside the Citadel all through the night, when he got word that they’d both fallen ill. The mother knew him, and had walked out of the Citadel, two younger sisters carrying his girls.

_ “Be happy, Richard. We’ll be joining Spencer to watch over you.” _ Sarah’s old, frail fingers didn’t dance through his hair, his danced through hers, her head in his lap.

_ “We’ve lived good lives, you know that. We did more good in six months than most Shadowhunters do in a lifetime. We’ve had more than our fair share of love, and you’ve born the burden for it.”  _ Elizabeth leaning on him, her white hair so fine it was nearly invisible.

_ “Promise me you’ll find another man to love. Promise us you’ll find the happiness you are so deserving of.” _ Sarah’s old eyes sparkled with undying love, the love he’d wished his siblings had shown him. 

_ “Nihil potest nocere nobis, cum nos invicem.” _ He’d whispered to them. They’d smiled, a secret smile reserved for the four of them. 

_ “We hid some more, in our little box.” _ Sarah had said.

_ “You’ll find it someday, and you’ll thank us.” _

_ “Eli, always so presumptive.” _ He’d teased with no bite.

_ “You’ll continue watching over our beloved Downworld? Keep it free, so others like us can always find it. Always be safe in it. _ ” Sarah had asked, eyes fluttering closed.

_ “I promise.” _

_ “And promise you’ll never forget us?” _ Elizabeth had asked, her voice taking on a tone of fear he’d only heard thrice.

_ “I promise.” _

_ “Nihil potest nocere nobis, cum nos invicem. There is no pain in this, because we are together.” _ Sarah had whispered.

_ “Nihil potest nocere nobis, cum nos invicem.”  _ Elizabeth had whispered in her own echo.

_ “And we’re always together.”  _ Nines had said as the final breaths left both of them, less than a second apart.

Nines had clutched their bodies tight, until the last of their warmth was gone, and the sun had begun its slow ascent.

_ “Mr. Ashgrove, you must away now. The sun will be here any moment.” _ The mother had knelt in front of them. 

_ “Let it take me, I have no family left that want me.” _

_ “I know that is not true. You have family, and you made the sisters a promise. You must keep it.” _

_ “I cannot leave them.” _

_ “You are not leaving them, you will carry them with you always. As they carried you with them in everything they did.” _

_ “I cannot find shelter before the sun rises....”  _ He’d said. And the mother had led them to their shed, devoid of all light. Nines had sat there and wept for hours, endlessly. The mother finally arrived, carrying something with her.

White mourning clothes, a jacket, shirt, waistcoat, and pants. Embroidered carefully with the same curlicues Sarah had decorated their box with, their initials swirling together across the fabric. The mother had given them to him, and closed the door again. He’d tossed his clothes into the coal fireplace that heated the shed in the winter, never wanting to see those garments again, and emerged looking the part of a grieving Shadowhunter.

The mother had placed her hands on either side of his cold cheeks. 

_ “We do not know why the heavens send us down the paths we walk, but we must believe that through all the suffering, through all the darkness, we will create our own light.” _

And Nines had thanked her for her kindness and left, arriving outside the forest where he met Ada, who had waited patiently. She held him close as they portaled home, and Connor and Kara had met him there, the Lady of Detroit graced Ada’s apartment, to give Nines her condolences. And then the steady flood began.

Downworlders whose lives Sarah and Elizabeth had touched came streaming in, thanking him, and crying with him. These were the people Spencer had given his life for, that Sarah and Elizabeth had given their futures for, that Nines had given his runes and name for, and all but a few simply assumed he'd been one of them, a Downworlder Sarah and Elizabeth had helped escape. 

This was his family. Werewolves and fae and warlocks and vampires, most he did not know by name, had travelled to thank him, to share in his grief.

A grief the Clave refused to share with them.

That angered Nines most of all. At the end of the week, he had used his power as the negotiator to add a clause to the Agreement after it was signed, that all the Downworld signatories affirmed, overruling the Nephilim.

**_The E.S Clause_ **

  * **_Any and all Downworlders residing within the area the Institute established by this Agreement covers shall be entitled to attend any and all Shadowhunter funerals, should they wish._**



  * **_They need not prove any connection to the diseased, and may make their sentiment known at any time_**


  * If so requested by the deceased, Downworlders may be present, and may read the name of the deceased


  * The Downworld reserves the right to mourn alongside the Detroit Enclave, in white as is the Nephilim tradition



  
  


Gavin watched Nines retreat, his eyes glazed over as ghosts of his past surfaced. They had ten minutes before their meeting with the Inquisitor; he could afford Nines this luxury. 

Until Nines’ hand started shaking, and his eyes welled up with tears. Gavin wrapped his arms around Nines’ neck and pulled him close. Nines was still out of it, and only when Gavin began murmuring in his ear in Seelie-toned Gaelic did he finally come out of it.

“Tha mi duilich, mo ghaol,” _(I'm sorry, my love)_ Nines whispered weakly.

“ Na gabh leisgeul airson sin,” _(Don't apologize for that)_ Gavin spoke softly. “Ghosts of our past are very rarely what we wish, where we wish, or when we wish them to be.”

Nines straightened, his hand sliding down Gavin’s arm and clutching his hand tightly. “We should go. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

Nines walked forward into the building, and Gavin stayed glued to his side. They were escorted to the Inquisitor’s office, and an attendant knocked on the door.

“Inquisitor, Mr. Gavin Reed and his..... Uh... they’re here to see you?”

The Inquisitor opened the door. “‘His uh’ has a name, Mr. Larkhome. Did you, perhaps, forget to  _ ask it _ ?”

The attendant turned red, and flustered. Nines piped up, “In his defence, I hadn’t decided until a few hours ago.”

Gavin smiled, slightly bending the truth wasn’t  _ bad _ . “Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane, I’m Gavin Reed of the Detroit Institute.” 

“Please, come in.” He held the door open for the two of them, who walked in and took the seats offered, across from the Inquisitor’s desk. “I do apologize for Larkhome. He began two days ago, and more often than not he forgets to ask details beyond what the appointment book says.” The Inquisitor opened the file on his desk, and frowned. “So you’re pursuing the overturning of a case ruling from... 1820? Of Richard Ashgrove?”

“Yes, we are.” Gavin pulled out his own copy of the file sitting on the Inquisitor’s desk, his annotated.

“On what grounds? Surely Mr. Ashgrove is long dead.”

Nines cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m not.”

The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow. “Please, elaborate.”

“I was cast out after my deruning in 1820. In 1821, I was Turned into a vampire, and for the past two hundred years I have worked within the Detroit Clan as their co-leader and advisor to their official head, Connor. After I was turned, I took the name Nines, due to personal significance of the number. After quelling a failed Downworlder uprising in our city, I came in contact with a shard of Glorious which, when it touched my skin-”

“Burned away your Downworlder blood with Heavenly Fire,” the Inquisitor interrupted. When both Nines and Gavin gave him confused looks, he elaborated, “in the 2010s, there was a program that was dedicated to eradicating Downworlders by turning them into mundanes, via a concentration of Heavenly Fire, taken from a shard of Glorious. My step-father was returned to his own Shadowhunter state after being injected.”

Nines nodded. “Given that I intend to pursue a case, which, once the evidence is gathered properly, will be brought before you, I need my past conviction overturned.

“What exactly were you convicted of?”

“The official or the no bullshit version?” Gavin responded to the Inquisitor’s question.

“I looked at the case, and I didn’t even  _ recognize _ half these charges. And I’ve been Inquisitor for nearly two decades.”

“I, along with my parabatai, his wife and her parabatai, kept the city of Bath safe from the old practices of hunting Downworlders for nearly a decade when the Clave decided we were too lenient and sent in someone who had a reputation for hunting. We arranged an evacuation of the entire Downworld over six months, and we succeeded, at the cost of my parabatai’s life.” Nines stared at a small rainbow flag and tri-tone flag on the desk. “And I had become parabatai with him because we loved each other and there was no other way to ensure we wouldn’t lose each other. It came to light during my questioning with the Mortal Sword. It was a scandal, a man in love with his parabatai who was also a man, who loved him back. Their poor wife and fiancé.”

Nines met the Inquisitor’s gaze. “I took the fall for them. Sarah and Elizabeth were like me and him. We’d formed marriages to ensure no one would suspect anything, but we couldn’t stand by. So we evacuated the Downworld, leaving behind no one to terrorize and a giant Downworlder-only settlement popping up across the world in America.”

The Inquisitor picked up his stele and drew a rune across the file, and the decision was blanked out. “Nice to have an easy case for once,” he remarked as he looked up at Nines and Gavin. “And you’re going to go back to being Richard Ashgrove?”

“No, I’m keeping Nines and the last name.” He smiled a little. “Partially to spite my brother. He was the first Consul Ashgrove, said I’d sullied the family name.”

The Inquisitor laughed at that, and slid the file towards a hatch glowing with blue magic. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Ashgrove.” The hatch sputtered and the Inquisitor sighed, pressing a button.

“Yes, my wonderfulness?” Came a voice from a small speaker on the desk.

“Magnus, your magic sorting system bungled again.”

“Oh, I was so close this time, too. I’ll be in in a few moments.” The tone of the speaker man’s voice changed. “Rafael, I swear to all that is unholy, hand your brother back his spell book, and Max, give your brother back his stele, you two-” 

The Inquisitor closed the connection with a heavy sigh. “My husband’s been trying to fix the old sorting system for nearly twenty years. Our sons try to help, it rarely works as well as their tormenting each other does.” Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane looked between them. “The case you’re planning to present, Mr. Ashgrove, I suppose won’t be as simple as this one?”

Nines shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Inquisitor. And, unfortunately, I’m certain that there will be people who will try to have you excuse yourself on personal bias.”

“Do I get a heads up? Try to prepare myself at least?”

“Someone’s been attacking Downworlders in Detroit, for sport, for we don’t even know how long,” Gavin answered, and the Inquisitor’s eyes turned from warm to furious, protective fire. “And we’re fairly certain that an old Shadowhunter family has been attempting to cover it up, through bribery.”

“And you have statements?”

Gavin nodded. “And myself, as a character witness, eventually.” He looked to Nines, who nodded.

“I am in the very unique position of having the Detroit Downworld’s  _ complete _ trust. More and more have come forward since they learned I would be the one prosecuting the case.” Nines crossed his arms. “I was trained in fine points of Clave law as a child. As an ally to the Downworld in the early 19th century, I aided in ghostwriting parts of treaties, and a few drafts of the Accords, and more importantly, I was the main negotiator of the Detroit Agreement which, in this case, supersedes the Accords.”

“Don’t suppose you have a copy of the Agreement? I have one somewhere, studied it while making my own strategy for allying with the Downworld, but...” he trailed off and gestured to the glowing mail slot. “My husband’s always loved experimenting with magic and science. I’m fairly certain my copy is lost for a while.”

Nines nodded. “I’ll be sure a copy is sent a few days, at least, before I make this case.”

“Very well.” The two turned to leave, but the Inquisitor stopped them. “Mr. Ashgrove, your parabatai, what happened to him?”

“He died.”

“Yes, I meant  _ after. _ ”

Nines looked to Gavin, who answered for him. “He was buried in the cemetery of the disgraced.”

The Inquisitor frowned, then traced a fire message in the air, which burned away quickly. “The Silent Brothers will be in contact within a few days about exhuming him, and giving him the burial he deserved.” The Inquisitor looked at Nines. “How many Downworlders did you evacuate?”

“One thousand four hundred twenty-seven.”

“He helped save fifteen hundred lives and that is how the Clave repaid him....” The Inquisitor shook his head.

“He helped save more than that.” Gavin countered, tucking his hair behind his ear, displaying the points. “I wouldn’t be alive, if they hadn't saved my mother. Many Downworlders wouldn’t have the lives they have now, if they hadn’t saved the Bath Downworld. Many likely wouldn’t exist.”

The Inquisitor nodded. “We’ve always been told to multiply any number of those saved, mundane, Downworlder or shadowhunter, by 1.6, to see the full extent, so-”

“Two thousand, two hundred eighty-three point two,” the speaker voice answered from the door. Looking at Nines was the High Warlock of Alicante, Magnus Lightwood-Bane. “And I’ve met many who sang your praises, including Connor.”

Nines inclined his head. “Your Portals would’ve been a welcome help, pity it took two decades for the right minds to meet.”

The warlock extended his hand to Nines, who shook it. “Ada spoke very highly of you, as does Connor, doesn’t shut up about you on the shopping trips we take. I must say, I very much approve of his policies regarding yin fen.”

“A vampire clan head with policies surrounding yin fen?” The Inquisitor questioned curiously as the Warlock sauntered into the room, kissing his husband quickly before going to work on the hatch.

Nines looked back at him. “Connor has banned production within the Detroit area, as well as any clan members, or vampires that live under the roof Connor provides, on pain of death.” Nines crossed his arms again. “I relied heavily on the original demonic form of the drug in the year between my deruning and my Turning. Connor banned it before I even arrived in Detroit.”

“Families of choice are stronger than those of blood,” the High Warlock stated from under the desk.

“Very true. Oh, Magnus, I sent a letter to Brother Zachariah, for another reason, but if he’s in the area, get him to advise you on...” the Inquisitor gestured to the hatch, which suddenly exploded into sparks.

“I’m okay!” He called from the desk.

“I’ll see you both out.” The Inquisitor exited the office, muttering under his breath, “And hope I still have an office in the building.”

“In the building?” Gavin asked.

“He once transported my office to Peru. The one country, incidentally, that has banned my husband from entry. Neither of us know why, actually.” The Inquisitor sighed fondly, escorting Nines and Gavin to the main hall. 

As the two of them went to leave, the Inquisitor cleared his throat. “Mr. Ashgrove, Mr. Reed, once a conviction has been overturned, a stele drawn through names on the stones in the cemetery will remove the name.” The Inquisitor shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “In case the information is needed.”

With that, the Inquisitor returned to his office, and Gavin and Nines stood on the steps of the building, looking at each other.

“Do you want to go there?” Gavin asked.

“I...” Nines sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Nines nodded, responding without hesitation, “Yes.”

Gavin took Nines’ hand. “Then how about this: we walk in the general direction, and if you decide to stop, we’ll go somewhere else instead.”

Nines nodded and the two of them turned towards the Gard, and began walking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, posting the first chapter: I'll update this on schedule every Monday.  
> Me, looking at the clock and realizing it's Tuesday: Fuck.
> 
> As always if you wanna yell at me/talk bout this (or other) stories/ships I'm on twitter @marvelmerlin (where I give heads up about updates) and on Tumblr @marvelmerlinao3

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna yell at me/talk bout this (or other) stories/ships I'm on twitter @marvelmerlin (where I give heads up about updates) and on Tumblr @marvelmerlinao3


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